


Cas and Dean's Adventures in Veganism

by ahurston



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Road Trips, veganism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25590682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahurston/pseuds/ahurston
Summary: In which Dean would happily eat all the Tofurky in the world for Cas.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 77
Collections: The Unkindravens Birthday Collection





	Cas and Dean's Adventures in Veganism

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unkindravens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkindravens/gifts).



> Happy birthday, my dear [unkindravens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkindravens/)!!

"Dean, have you ever considered the ethical merits of veganism?" Cas asks from across the bunker’s kitchen table. He’s fiddling with the wrapper on his beer bottle, something he only does when there’s something he wants to get off his chest. 

Dean sighs and sets down his beef bourguignon-laden fork, a tragedy if there ever was one. After tonight, it’s all diner food for the next who knows how many days. He and Cas are headed to California for a hunt. 

"No, buddy. Can't say that I have." 

"There are some informative articles I can send you, if you’re interested. All from reputable journals of course, and I can share my personal perspective as well. Over the course of the last several millennia, I’ve observed the dietary habits of innumerable human civilizations, and -"

Dean takes a bite of garlic bread instead of the stew, a small consolation prize. This guy has saved his life _more than once,_ he reminds himself as he stares longingly at his bowl. "That'd be great. Sure, Cas. I’ll read the articles." 

Cas smiles. Beams, really. "I just - have you met a cow? In person? They're delightful. Their eyes alone..."

"I'll take your word for it," Dean says, sliding his bowl to the side with what seems like an entirely appropriate amount of existential despair. 

“Anyway, I was thinking we could take a trip, when we finish the hunt. According to The BuzzFeed -"

"It's just BuzzFeed. Not _the_ BuzzFeed."

Cas rolls his eyes. "Anyway, the west coast appears to be a mecca of sorts for cruelty-free dining in America. I thought that once we’ve dispatched the ghost, I could attempt to persuade you of veganism’s merits by way of your taste buds, and your conscience."

"Hm."

"And by way of sex,” Cas adds. “Lots of that as well."

That changes things. Dean would happily eat all the Tofurky in the world for a few nights of banging it out in a motel room with Cas.

“You’re on.”

***

"Well, that was the smoothest hunt we've ever had," Dean said, sliding into the driver's seat. The strain of digging up a grave in his forties notwithstanding, he's feeling pretty damn good.

"It helped that the ghost _led us_ to the site of its own ashes,” Cas counters, flicking a speck of graveyard dust off his pants. 

“Don’t ruin this for me. I’m a fuckin’ pro. Expertise, man. That’s what it’s all about.”

“Of course, Dean. Although you must admit, a ghost that requests assistance with departing this earthly plane is significantly less of a -”

Dean groans. 

Cas lifts his hands up. "Okay, alright. For the heroism you displayed tonight, I’ll reward you when we arrive at the motel.”

“By ‘reward,’ you mean...” Dean waggles his eyebrows and feels no shame. 

“Sex, Dean.”

"Hell yes. You're forgiven."

Cas is stupidly, maliciously sexy the entire too-long drive from the rural church cemetery to what passes for the nearest town. It’s passive harassment, is what it is. What with the way the occasional streetlight casts shadows across his face in profile, the way he fuckin’ _breathes_ \- it’s all a targeted attack, and Dean’s helpless. 

The El Rancho Motel in Yermo is absolutely perfect, mostly because it’s the only place in town. Dean taps his credit card against the counter and shifts his feet as the clerk takes forever explaining their choice of rooms. 

“There’s room seven, which is closest to the ice machine. That’s important. Oh, or room four, which is closest to reception, like if you need an extra towel or something? Or ten, at the end. Our most private option.”

“Privacy sounds good,” Cas says, offering the woman a warm smile. “That will work well for all the...sleeping...we’ll be doing.”

Cas, because he’s insane, slides his hand around Dean’s waist and then down until he’s palming Dean’s ass behind the cover of the tall reception desk. Dean makes an extremely dignified sound, which he covers with the fakest cough in the history of fake coughs. 

“I hope you get a quality night’s rest, gentlemen. Here’s your key. And remember, the ice machine is closest to room seven, which you can get to by turning north outside your room - or wait, south? Would turning left be south?”

“I think we can manage. And thank you so kindly for your help,” Cas says, and even Dean believes it. Cas keeps his hand in Dean’s back pocket the whole way out to the car. 

It’s embarrassing. He loves it so goddamn much. 

Cas pressing him against the back of the motel room door is pretty good too. Even better is the leg Cas slots between his as they kiss, and the way Cas loudly gasps his name when he’s arching off the bed twenty minutes later. 

Room ten was the right call. 

***

Dean wakes up to Cas’ fingers skating over his bare right hip. Dean’s the little spoon, a preference determined pretty much immediately after they started this thing two years ago. 

“S’ticklish,” Dean grumbles, but he pushes his ass against him all the same, Cas’ dick settling right where Dean wants it. 

“We need to get going, Dean,” Cas says in his ear, squeezing his hip as Dean grinds back into him. 

“ _Yeah_ we do,” Dean says, reaching for the end table where he’s pretty sure the lube ended up last night. 

“We need to get on the road.” 

“Please say that’s some new position you wanna try,” Dean hedges, reaching a hand back so he can card it through Cas’ hair as he slides his ass along Cas’ cock. That usually works. 

“The first restaurant on my list opens at 11:00, and we’ve got a two hour drive ahead of us.”

“Dammit.”

“Burgers, Dean,” Cas whispers in his ear like he’s talking as dirty as he did last night. “ _Magical_ burgers." 

***

Cas gives Dean directions through the maze of endless Los Angeles highways until they're driving slowly through the packed streets of Venice Beach. 

"Hey buddy, uh, not trying to nitpick, but where am I gonna fucking park?" Dean asks nervously. He wants the burger obviously, but at what cost? "Baby doesn't do parallel."

"There's a paid lot two blocks west," Cas says. "And I verified in advance that the parking attendants perform continuous security checks. The Impala will be safe."

"I love you so damn much," Dean says, and he means it. It's crazy how much he means it, and even crazier how easy it is to say. 

"And I, you."

***

Cas chooses a table near the front, startlingly bright sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Speakers shaped like pineapples are playing music that Dean knows in his very soul that Sam likes. Ugh. 

The server is too pretty, with dark hair and blue eyes and a name tag reading "Hyacinth." When she asks what they'd like to drink, Dean smiles slow and leans in, running on automatic after decades of charming beautiful people in cafes and bars across America. 

"We'll take two of the Glowing Turmeric Sunrise, please," Cas cuts in. 

"What? We will?" Dean says, shaking himself.

"Apologies, I forgot. My partner here would like the Cultivating Progurt Probiotic. For his digestive health."

"The fuck?" Dean mutters under his breath, kicking Cas' shoe under the table.

"We'd also like the 'I Am Eclectic,' please," Cas adds. “To share.”

" _Cas,_ " Dean whispers urgently, certain the server is about to laugh in Cas' face at that absurd order.

But instead, she nods serenely, smiling. "Excellent choice. You're both beautiful creatures, blessed by the stars above. I'll be back with your drinks in a moment, and the appetizer will be out soon."

Dean sinks back in his chair. Cas' face is neutral, completely blank, except for the barest hint of a grin Dean can see pulling up the side of his mouth.

"You fucker."

Cas’ smile widens, all teeth. "Well, last night it was actually _you_ who was the -"

Dean leans over the table. "What the hell is this place? What the fuck is _progurt_?!"

"Your microbiome could use supplementation. You know I’m right."

Hyacinth returns, setting two tall glasses on the table and giving them a totally unnecessary little bow before leaving.

"What about a burger though?" Dean goes on. "I deserve a burger. I dug up a goddamn grave yesterday!"

"You might want to keep your voice down," Cas says archly, before taking a sip of his brilliantly yellow drink, eyebrows raised.

"But -"

"And this fine establishment does have burgers," Cas says, turning a menu around to show Dean. "You'll want to order the 'I Am Magical.'"

"Like hell I'm gonna -"

"It's just a name, Dean. When the server returns, all you have to do is say it. Surely you've done harder things."

Dean can't help himself. "You bet I've done harder things.” He may or may not attempt to sexily wink.

"You're ridiculous," Cas says, rolling his eyes, but he shifts in his chair nonetheless. 

"And you're easy," Dean says, slipping his foot between Cas' under the table. "I bet I could take you to the bathroom right now, get down on my knees, and have us back in our seats before the appetizer comes."

Cas stiffens, taking in a quick breath before shaking his head. 

"Drink your progurt, Dean."

“It’s _blue_. That can’t be right.”

“I assure you, it’s perfectly safe. Your species has been consuming bacterial biomasses like spirulina for almost a thousand years.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and takes the tiniest sip he can manage. 

“Oh.”

Cas’ shoulders drop. “You don’t like it. That’s okay. I think they have some local beers as well. Kombucha too, of course.”

Dean takes another drink, and shakes his head. “No, it’s - I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s really good.”

“You don’t have to lie to preserve my feelings,” Cas says with a dramatic sigh, staring at the ceiling. 

“I’m not lying though!” Dean insists, sliding Cas’ glass of neon-yellow whatever across the table and stealing a sip. “Fuck me, yours is great too. What a world. Let me see that menu. Oh sweet, bacon.”

“Coconut bacon.”

“At this point, I’ll go with it. If they can make pond scum taste good -”

“Cyanobacteria. It’s algae,” Cas corrects him. 

Hyacinth returns, setting a plate down between them. 

Dean dives right in, dipping a piece of buffalo sauce-covered something or other into what looks like blue cheese dip but is probably seaweed.

“Ohmagawd,” he says, around a mouthful of deliciousness. 

Cas smiles. “You’re enjoying the cashew dip?”

Dean glances to either side of their table before leaning close to whisper, “Dude, is this a case? Some kind of demon deal thing? A witch, except somehow not gross for fucking once?”

“No, no,” Cas says. “Not a case. Just expertly prepared, plant-based cuisine.”

Dean holds his hands up in defeat. “Alright, I’m convinced. Gimme the burger, the ‘I Am Magical.’ I’ll shout that dumbass name from the rooftops. I’m ready.”

Cas hasn’t stopped smiling, and fifteen minutes later, around a black bean patty topped with macadamia cheese and surrounded by a plush brioche bun, neither can Dean. 

After scraping up the last of the house-made ketchup with a perfectly cooked yuca fry, Dean asks. “Okay, where are we going next?”

Cas leans across their licked-clean plates to show Dean a map of California on his phone, filled with color-coded icons. 

“There’s what sounds like a poltergeist in Santa Maria, so we can hit this charming cliffside cafe in Pismo Beach after. The tempeh tacos are supposed to be otherworldly, Dean. Then it’s on to a possible vampire nest in Salinas, with pho in San Jose for a reward, then...”

***


End file.
